Page 120 of Things We Fake
My gaze met his straight on. “No. I’m not.”
His lips curled slightly at the edges. “Good.”
“That’s it? No lecture? NoI told you so?”
He turned toward me, his expression serious. “Do you think I wanted a daughter who let people walk all over her? Who was afraid to say what she wanted? No, Susanne. I wanted a daughter who knew her worth. And now you do.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I looked down, scuffing my boot against the dirt. “Yeah. But I lied to you, and I’m so sorry. I think I hurt Cam, too. I humiliated him in front of everyone.”
Dad nodded slowly. “Yes, you did. But if you apologize from the heart, he’ll forgive you.”
“You think?”
“He’s pretty smitten with you.”
A weak smile twisted my lips. “I wish he were, but he’s just a good actor.”
Dad scoffed. “Don’t you tell me what he is. I talked to the man, even after you left. He told me the ring was not fake for him.”
My jaw dropped and I gaped at him. “He told you what?”
Dad looked smug. “I asked him why he spent a fortune on a fake ring. He said he never intended it to be fake.”
My pulse hammered in my ears, mixing with my dad’s words. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Cam was in love with me, too? Why hadn’t he said so? Then again, I hadn’t said it either, afraid he wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings, afraid he’d reject me, or pity me, or…
“I have to go.”
I turned on my heels and started running toward the house. I had to see Cam, now.
The sense of urgency carried me through the hallway, up the stairs and into my bedroom. I piled up my things in my overnight bag, not even pausing to think how I was going to get back to New York without a car. There was no room in my love-filled brain for unimportant matters like that. I’d find a way.
I ran down the stairs and through the front door, ready to sprout wings and fly back to New York. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. In my haste to pack and leave, I hadn’t heard the car approaching or the gravel whisper under its wheels. The momentum carried me down the front steps of the house, where I froze, staring at Cam.
He was here, getting out of his car, heading toward me.
My throat was tight and dry as I stared at him, my very soul melting with love. He was wearing a shirt and jeans that had seen better days, he was unshaven, and traces of fatigue shadowed his handsome face. He’d never looked more beautiful to me.
I walked the short distance between us, my eyes never leaving his.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“I… Paul texted me.”
My brow furrowed. “He texted you?”
“Becky and Michelle exchanged phone numbers the other day. Now your whole family has my number, and apparently I have theirs.”
He fished his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, and handed it to me.
I read aloud. “Dude, my sisters in Warwick. If you wanna mend things or something, get over here.”
I burst into laughter as I handed Cam his phone back. “For the record, he only has one sister.”
Cam’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I bet that missing apostrophe’s driving you nuts.”
“I wish I could blame autocorrect. I also don’t condone the use ofwanna.”
Humor faded from my voice as I looked up into his eyes. I wondered if he could read the same longing, the same hunger, the same need in mine.
